Solomeo

The Hamlet

The Hamlet

In 1985 business was going so well that the company workspace was becoming too cramped. A new and larger workspace had to be found. The search was neither quick nor easy. One evening, though, on my way home, I happened to see the Solomeo hill, with its evergreen woods, the hamlet, the castle and the ancient Villa Antinori. It was the hometown of my then fiancée and now wife, Federica, and I knew it well. That evening, however, it looked different somehow. It was as if I were seeing it for the first time. I felt that what I had been searching for so long was now before me. The hill, with its ancient buildings practically in ruins, told the story of distant dreams that have now come true. Buying the properties meant I had to convince the owner that I cared for the place as much as he did, and that those time-worn walls would be restored and looked after with the love and respect that everything that is a part of our history deserves. That was my first commitment and my first dream: through my business, I wanted to return Solomeo to its former glory and restore the lifeblood that had allowed it to grow and prosper for centuries.

The History

The History

The hamlet of Solomeo was built between the late 12th century and the first half of the 13th century on the site of a former rural settlement known as Villa Solomei, which was a base for the men working on reclaiming the plain below. It was near the road that in the Middle Ages, and probably in Roman timestoo, linked Perugia with Castiglion del Lago and Chiusi.In 1361 the village of Villa Solomei was made up of a palazzo, casamentum, twelve domus, two farmhouses and the Church of St Bartholomew. In the spring of 1391, the inhabitants chose to fortify the village, and the owner of the largest palazzo, Meo Iohannis Cole, sponsored construction of the Castle. In Council records, Meo is referred to as the “purchaser”. The fortress was built up against his palazzo: “iuxta palatium dicti mei”. Solomeo Castle must have been complete by the late 14th century, but it was still referred to as the “Villa” for some time afterwards.

Then, an act of 1430 refers to Castrum Solomei for the very first time. During the 16th century, the village expanded beyond the castle walls, no doubt due to population growth. At that time, the houses were not built up against the castle walls. Only later, after 1729, were other houses built to form the village that now stretches along the entire south-east side of the walls. The St Bartholomew Church of Solomeo was built between the late 12th and the mid 13th century. Over the centuries, the church deteriorated to such an extent that a new church had to be built, around 1740. Built on the ruins of the old one, this new church was completed in 1748.

The Restoration

The Restoration

Restoring the village of Solomeo has been like waking a sleeping genie. Breathing new life into an old building is not simple, because you run the risk of removing its original charm forever. But we found the key in the simplicity of our most ancient value: humanity. People still mindful of artisan traditions and the techniques of their fathers set to work with the love for their Umbrian land and, with an almost Franciscan commitment, slowly but surely restored the spirituality of the place and, with it, its history. Solomeo also looks to the future, however, with the new Forum of the Arts, inaugurated in September 2008, where among the gardens and trees, a theater and an open-air amphitheater provide spaces for people to meet, get to know one another, meditate in silent solitude, or laugh together in serenity.

The Origins

The Origins

When I decided to start a knitwear business in 1978, Perugia was already one of the major towns in the tradeand employed over thirteen thousand people. I got a 500,000 lire loan and set up a workshop, which made five colored cashmere sweaters for my first sample collection. Sales took off immediately, especially on the German market. The business grew and the time soon came when I had to make a major decision. Should I remain a good company like so many others or should I, in the words of American economist Theodore Levitt, whose ideas had inspired me to start this business in the first place, take a leap of faith and become the very best at specializing in a unique product? I chose cashmere because it is a highly specialized product: out of the whole fleece, you only use the fine fibers from a very small area beneath the animal's neck.

Next came innovation: I wanted to bring cashmere up-to-date, to transform it from a traditional item into a fashion product, dye it all the colors of the rainbow, and also make it a more desirable product for women. I knew women liked cashmere: they borrowed oversized sweaters from the wardrobes of their brothers and husbands, rolled up the sleeves and wore them almost like a tunic that enveloped their body and accentuated their femininity. All we did was make sweaters that were "legitimately" for women right from the start.

The Territory

The Territory

Dotted with villages connected by a network of roads that snake over the rolling hills, this ancient land has been marked by the proliferating force of its urban centers since medieval times. The unmistakable physiognomy of the Umbrian landscape, immediately reminiscent of Renaissance painting, is the result of that crucial period in Italian history known as the "Age of the Communes". Indeed, the legacy of the Middle Ages dominates the landscape with its fascinating fortified villages, perfectly preserved castles, frescoed churches and isolated towers in the green valley or on the hilltops. This beautiful land has nonetheless succeeded in building its own solid cultural identity over the centuries. Umbria, like all Italian regions, was subject to foreign invasions after the fall of the Roman Empire, and the Middle Ages saw the rise of major religious and cultural movements linked to the experiences of Saint Francis of Assisi and Saint Benedict of Nursia.

A rich artistic heritage developed under papal domination: Giotto's frescos can be found in the Assisi Basilica and many of Perugino's works are in the regional capital of Perugia, once the center of Etruscan civilization and today a cosmopolitantown with an outstanding university. Umbria is also hometo many towns and cities with exceptional artistic, architectural and spiritual values. We begin our journey in Assisi, where Saint Francis taught us that divine and human dignity is enough to make us despise any injustice. Spoleto, which all Umbrians adore, is a multi-faceted town where the aroma of the damp soil from ancient buried ruins blends with the vigorous, ardent nature of the Spoleto people. Then we come to Spello, which is overlooked by the Subasio Mountain that rises at the center of a thick forest of beech and holm oak trees and encourages silence and prayer.

The cypress trees in Gubbio, blown by the wind or perhaps by a divine hand, paint clouds of a thousand shapes and colors against the brilliant blue sky and are firmly rooted in this land inhabited by people with a quirky sense of humor who do not fear the freedom that comes from their age-old wisdom. Mysticism and action are the dominant elements of this land that is divided between sanctity and power, between the dreamy and mysterious sweetness of its landscape and its austere medieval towers, and between saints and warriors. The Umbrian people are proud and industrious.They value their traditions yet look courageously to the future, and are capable of incorporating dedication, passion, humanity, tolerance, mysticism, craftsmanship and creativity.

Gubbio

Gubbio

To Gubbio. I dedicate this catalog to the men, women and places of Gubbio. Whenever my heart beckons, I always return to the narrow lanes surrounded by hills and meadows, where the cypresses, moved by the wind or perhaps by a divine hand, trace clouds of myriad shapes and colors against the glowing sky. I love the smooth, shiny stone of the homes, almost silvery at certain hours of the morning, which seems untouched by passing time, bathed by a breeze that lightly caresses the decorative coats-of-arms above noble portals. I admire these eccentric, jovial people and their way of coping with joys and sorrows, wealth and poverty, with the same mischievous attitude of Etruscans who never feared the freedom of their ancient wisdom. I marvel at the thin, chiseled faces of the youth; brief, charming female glances; and the misty eyes of the old, serenely sitting in the shadow of the oaks, remembering days gone by. They are a part of my soul. Thus, with those same kind and simple gestures, I wish to present the world with an image of the sentiment that profoundly unites me to them.Gubbio and the “Corsa dei Ceri” [Candle Race] are

one, and it is impossible to separate them. The Candle Race is so deeply ingrained in the spirit of the people of Gubbio that it has been celebrated without interruption for over eight centuries. The race is held each year in the middle of May, on the eve of the patronal feast day dedicated to Saint Ubaldo. Everything happens in the span of twenty-four hours, yet for days on end the excitement and awareness of the race pervade the people, enter their homes, condition the relationships and the social image of its citizens, transform the language and even change the names of cities, which now refer to the itinerary of the candles rather than the true names assigned by history. It almost seems as if time has changed. It is the most important day in Gubbio because the year begins precisely with the “Festa dei Ceri” [the Candle Festival] and only ends on the eve of the following one. The race is prepared in the first six months. For the remaining six, the people do nothing but talk about the past festival. And when the day arrives, everyone leaves their home and goes into the street to enjoy a unique spectacle. This year, we were there with them, too.

Spoleto

Spoleto

I lived for a brief yet intense period in Spoleto, the town that I believe best represents the untamed love of all Umbrians. I often felt its essence enter through the open windows of my home in the spring. Its essence differs from that found in Perugia, Todi and all the other Umbrian cities, because it is fed by a cool breeze that bends the tips of the cypress trees. It bears the smell of damp earth from ancient buried ruins, the gamy scent of wild boar and, from farther away, the intense fragrance of the holm oaks on Mounteluco where Saint Francis of Assisi and his brothers encountered God and the entire Universe within the windowless hovels of mud and straw that looked more like pigeon coops than monk cells. I love that sun that shines as vigorously and boldly as the plucky character of the people of Spoleto, beating down upon the homes of cool, clean stone, through the infinite blue, raining golden rays upon the dark contours of the distant mountains, upon the palazzos with their stark stone facades, upon the courtyards and the cobblestones in the streets that glisten like precious stones on certain days at dawn.

I also know another Spoleto, when evening falls at dusk behind the walls of the vegetable gardens and ancient roofs, towards the valley, beyond the fields and flower gardens, down to Clitumno, illuminating the windows of the blue homes that glow and seem like paradise. At that point I can't sit still: I go out into the street and mingle with the cheerful, boisterous people dressed in their Sunday best. Kids laugh and chase after each other. Everyone is a bit crazy, full of passion and fervor, like most Umbrians and the people of Spoleto, especially. Immediately after dinner, when I am slightly tired after strolling through the neighborhoods and ancient squares, when the air is sweet and all that is needed is a slight breeze to give it a scent of quinces and jasmine, then and only then, once again desirous of solitude, I sit on the walls of the ramps in front of the beautiful Cathedral and think about this city, its ancient and noble spirit, and these people, so like myself, and I remain there, enchanted, to meditate.

Assisi

Assisi

Assisi, as innocent as a child and as righteous as the innocent, is where Saint Francis renewed the justice of God, which cannot exist without mercy or, for us mere mortals, tolerance. Our human nature prevents the concept of justice from being confused with Justicialism, because then it would lose the most profound sense of its authentic character. Justicialism is itself cursory; hence, it is often paradoxically unjust. And severity and justice do not always coincide. Sometimes the first prevails, which is certainly less exacting but is welcomed by our self-esteem, which Erasmus refers to as Filautìa in his Eulogy. The jurists of ancient Rome defined justice as “the constant and perpetual desire to give to each his own”. But Cicerone sustained: summum ius, summa iniuria; extremelaw is the greatest injustice. The concept of forgiveness is a part of the concept of justice, but does not coincide with it. Justice must always be free from a desire for punishment as an end in itself (behind which exists a longing for revenge). And it must avoid wanting to pass judgment (which often comes from a thirst for power). It will substantially and simply be a rendering of justice, and often in that sense clemency helps

achieve better results. Judging is a painful act, and should fate ever give us that burden, we will only be able to bear it if we find within ourselves a serenity that completely frees us from passions, and a love for our fellow human beings that is a driving force. This love, which nourishes the strength and courage to look inside of things, is sometimes difficult to feel because it must overcome the barriers raised by appearance, resentment, diffidence, interest, and the deviations induced by lies. But if we successfully chase out these demons from the shadows, and if we are attentive and serene and — whenever possible — we do our job in due time, then we will be very close to being righteous, because we will know how to render justice to the victim and tormentor. Like Saint Francis, justice does not shout from the mountain tops, but whispers in the hearts of men and women, revealing the truth that people around the world and of all religions seek and still find today in the streets, churches, and homes of Assisi.We, the men and women of the third millennium, only need to press a button to immediately see in

real time the situations of people in faraway lands and cruel injustice. And we realize that almost always the most profound injustices are the direct consequence of The Sleep of Reason evoked by Goya. Reason and sentiment: over the centuries, many scholars and intellectuals have sought to determine the differences and respective identities of these concepts. Yet Saint Francis of Assisi taught us that a sentiment of divine and human dignity is all that is needed to despise any form of injustice. Sentiment and reason. The ancient Greeks had one beautiful word for these two concepts symbolized by a goddess: Psyche.

Spello

Spello

Behold the remote and solitary Spello, dominated by Subasio, the mountain situated at the heart of a dense forest of beech trees and holm-oaks. The steep mountain slope encourages silence and religious contemplation. Up there, in a distant time hermits lived an austere life of prayer, segregated from the rest of the world. Saint Francis preached to the birds that gathered on the famous holm-oak that still stands today. And it was here that Andrea Caccioli, Saint Francis's disciple from Spello after whom his fellow townspeople dedicatedtheir church when he died in 1254, embraced the ideals of poverty and joy. The old homes of Spello are perched on the gently sloping hill amidst the fruit of the landscape. Lofty steeples, ancient towers and groups of cypresses alternating with silvery olive trees, stand out against the horizon. The city is always changing: to the east is a sweeping although perhaps less striking panorama, while on the other side is a diverse and picturesque view that a Frenchman, who fell in love with Umbria, once called “stupendous”. From this point the main road climbs the hill, while steep streets and narrow lanes that preserve noble vestiges of the past descend

on both sides. These are the streets of Brother Carlo Carretto, where the peaceful, spiritual atmosphere melds with the rich colors that splash across the canvases of local artists, making Spello a city of inspiration and meditation. Nature thrives in every corner of these streets, especially during the Corpus Christi festivity on the day of the Infiorata ceremony, when one can smell the unique fragrance of broom, fennel, and daisies emanating from carpets of flowers, and the nighttime vigil becomes a celebration that reminds the people of Spello of the ideals of their ancient history. Men and gods: this is what you would say of the inhabitants of Spello, based on the noble origins of their city. It is not difficult, even for a casual passer-by, to understand their proud demeanor and to admire the nobility of aging monuments: the Augustean walls; the temple of Diana and the street named for her, the funeral altar preserved in the Santa Maria Maggiore church; the church of Saint Lorenzo was built in 560 on the remains of the Temple of Apollo; the other sumptuous temple in honor of the Gens Flavia, a privilege granted by the Third Gordian; the Saint Claudio church built on top of the ancient Temple of

Saturn; and, further below on Via Perugina, the imposing remains of the amphitheater covered with overgrown vegetation that still cannot hide its grandiose dimensions. Spello, like the nearby Spoleto, was a Roman city. Hispellum dedicated its favorite sons to the Eternal City when, under the command of Pisone, they shed their blood in the Second Punic War. Perhaps due to these martial deeds and its loyalty to the ideal, Octavian designated the city a “Julia” colony, as confirmed by several inscriptions in which it is often defined as “splendid”. He also gave it the Baths of Clytumnus, a vast and fertile territory stretching from the Clytumnus Springs to Civitella d'Arna on the Tiber River. Curzio Malaparte once said that Spello was the motherland of incorruptible and bellicose temperaments, that were intolerant of bad masters and lovers of freedom, and that also concerned religion. This is demonstrated by the city's resistance to becoming Christian, and the fact that in 1130 the townspeople of Spello, although Christian, did not hesitate to throw Bishop Niccolò out of a window, bringing the Bishop's time to a premature end. And in

the 13th century Emperor Ottone IV had to personallyvisit the city to tame those fiery spirits. But the peopleof Spello also loved the arts, and their love is evident on every corner of every square: a church, an aristocraticpalazzo, an ancient tower... Each is an artistic treasure of hidden jewels: examplesof magnificent architecture, sculptures, and art, the most noble expression of which is Pinturicchio.In the painting of the “Annunciation” in the Baglioni Chapel of the Santa Maria Maggiore church, you can even see a portrait of the artist under the airy porticos, as proud as Perugino in the Sala del Cambio in Perugia. Further on is the pulpit made of “caciolfa” stone, also the substance of the medieval town hall, which stands next to the ancient Saint Rufino church, where there is a high-relief lion clutching a boar between its paws,a brief inscription with the date 1270, and the nameof the author, Prode, which symbolizes the noble prideof a people that loved ideals and life.Spello, what songpalpitates within the breasts / of your women high

upon / the Gate of Venus? ... In your towers the hot windsimitate that lyre, / while Callimachus the Roman dreamsof Umbria / in the Underworld. Beauty, history and art, as celebrated by D'Annunzio inhis poem Elettra, almost seem incarnate in each palazzo,every flower, and each landscape of Spello. They are an integral part of this noble city, and they still emanate from the gestures and eyes of its inhabitants, confirming, if therewas ever a need, a character that does not forsake the ideals that feed the heart and mind. Seneca knew that we need real,beautiful ideals to hold close and guard every day of our lives so that they never vanish. They are the legacy of our fathers. Once lost with the joie de vivre, they have returned, urgent and necessary, within our hearts, to animateand guide each step of life, the spiritual heritage of the future.